After Dumbledore's funeral, Hogwarts students were dismissed early for the holidays.
Fred didn't board the Hogwarts Express—instead, Lys collected him directly from the school gates.
Lys lingered at the distant position Fred had indicated, her eyes flickering as though some thought surfaced, but she ultimately brought Fred back to the reading room.
The bloodbath Lys had sensed brewing two years prior had finally erupted.
The Ministry of Magic had lost all authority!
Newspapers began publishing blatant propaganda without pretense.
Policies that once required careful maneuvering and parliamentary votes were now implemented through pure force.
All of magical Britain had become the Dark Lord's domain—they violently suppressed every dissenting voice.
The Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban returned in broad daylight!
Lucius stood before Lys once more. Though he appeared haggard and had lost his privileged position with the Dark Lord, he genuinely thanked Lys for her assistance to Narcissa—whether through those contracts where she could have demanded far more favorable terms, or by intercepting Death Eaters and wizards intent on trampling the Malfoy name underfoot.
Including the alchemical protective gear Fred had gifted Draco...
Though Lys had explicitly stated she didn't want Draco bringing trouble to her brother.
Lucius's iron-gray, sunken eye sockets were displayed before everyone without any attempt at concealment.
After the Dark Lord struck him, Lys handed him a bottle of vivid Elixir to Induce Euphoria and a Baruffio's Brain Elixir, muttering, "Don't dismiss my potions—I'm an Intermediate Potioneer."
Though Lucius recognized Lys's attempt at comfort, he couldn't summon a smile. This past year—what ordeals had his family, his wife, his son endured?
What future awaited Malfoy Manor?
Though he maintained his aristocratic bearing, he'd grown considerably more silent, considerably more cautious.
Yet he executed the Dark Lord's commands with even greater precision, desperately seeking forgiveness.
Lys didn't prevent Fred from attempting to silently support Draco.
Even knowing that Dumbledore's death—that man whose brain might as well have been honeycomb—was intimately connected to Draco.
Because after the Hogwarts assault, Bellatrix had constantly praised Draco as exemplary, merely too young—which allowed Snape to steal the ultimate glory of killing Dumbledore.
Lys also didn't discourage Fred's desire to continue studying under Snape. She managed nothing, content as long as the Dark Lord didn't remember Fred.
But had the Dark Lord truly forgotten Fred?
Obviously impossible.
Fred, the final heir of Britain's most ancient Black lineage, would serve as exquisite ornamentation when he expanded beyond Britain's borders.
His capable lieutenants and the Malfoys would educate him thoroughly... He would learn to sacrifice everything for the Dark Lord's glory.
But not yet. He remained too young—from every perspective, he still resembled a coerced child. And...
"I must personally kill Harry Potter first. Regardless of reason, I must sever that wavering 'savior star' banner from those wizards' hearts—that task belongs to me, the Dark Lord Voldemort."
Yes, even now, with most of the Ministry under the Dark Lord's control, he still hadn't heard supporting voices from foreign wizards, including nobles who'd previously backed him.
The Dark Lord refused to believe his current methods frightened those international wizards or intimidated those aristocrats.
The Dark Lord remained convinced he had one unfinished task that allowed those wizards to harbor ridiculous doubts.
Harry Potter—the great Golden Boy Who Lived.
The boy who'd defeated him, elevated as the "savior star."
The boy protected by Dumbledore and that laughable blood magic of "love."
Yes... soon...
After the boy reached majority, yes...
He would kill him and feed him to his beloved Nagini.
His most devoted servant would deliver definitive intelligence tonight...
The Dark Lord placed his finger upon the Dark Mark on Lucius's arm beside him, summoning the Death Eater assembly.
Once that boy lost his protection—purchased through others' sacrifices—the moment he came of age, he, the Dark Lord, would annihilate them all...
Now the Dark Lord required a more precise, more comprehensive action plan.
As Snape hurried toward the meeting chamber, Lys circled him twice.
The scent her nose had detected proved too faint. Lys pressed closer to his collar, even his chest, finally resting her nose against his raised wand-gripping right fingertips.
Narcissa observed from afar, coughed delicately, then murmured to Lucius beside her: "I witnessed this during their first year..."
Lys showed no reaction, only used brute force to grip Snape's fingertips, preventing him from withdrawing his hand. Her gray pupils held traces of shock.
But seeing Death Eaters silently filing into that shadowed meeting room, Lys finally released Snape's hand.
She silently employed atmospheric magic to draw away the faint fragrance lingering on his fingertips from gripping his wand.
Still unsettled, she circled Snape once more before entering the meeting room to crouch in her customary position.
She contemplated the fragrance on Snape's fingers—she sensed that wisp of scent held deeper significance...
Whatever the Dark Lord proclaimed entered one ear and exited the other.
Had Bellatrix not recently forced Lys to elevate her anti-tracking abilities while attempting to capture her with the wanted poster book, Lys might never have detected that subtle trace of—
Lily fragrance!
Tonight, before discussing Harry Potter's siege, he carried the scent of lilies??
And it likely wasn't accidental—he was a Potioneer... Unless he'd recently been somewhere with more intense odors, he couldn't have failed to notice such a conspicuous scent!!
"Before accomplishing this objective, I require borrowing one of your wands."
The Dark Lord's words, seemingly squeezed from throat and tongue, made everyone present—including Lys—shudder involuntarily.
Even with her mind consumed by lily fragrance, Lys instinctively pushed her blackthorn wand deeper into her cloak.
Lys considered her wand the finest present—she brooked no disagreement.
But the Dark Lord's intention apparently wasn't acquiring a sufficiently excellent wand. The Dark Lord acknowledged himself as the most powerful wizard, so he now needed merely a wand unbound by brother wand magic.
The Dark Lord seemed somewhat dissatisfied with everyone's cowering responses.
He thought he might need to discipline his former right hand before this crucial operation.
He wanted to determine whether his wavering servant still wished to dedicate everything to him.
Lys huddled silently on her step, frowning slightly as she watched Lucius's wand being confiscated.
The Dark Lord seemed to find his former schoolmate somewhat insubordinate?
The Dark Lord even mentioned how a Black family cousin had married a werewolf. The others, reveling in Lucius, Narcissa, and Bellatrix's humiliation, erupted in raucous laughter.
Some even pounded tables while pointing mockingly at Lys.
The Dark Lord silenced the commotion, gesturing toward the rotating prisoner suspended above the long table as he reiterated his desires.
"Bring me Potter... that will yield rewards beyond your imagination..."
Among those seated prominently, only Bella's enthusiasm appeared genuine. The remainder...
Regardless, Lys couldn't envision what form such rewards might assume.
Couldn't conceive it whatsoever.
The Dark Lord's wand rose—blinding green light eliminated their acquaintance who'd disagreed with their master's proposals. A Hogwarts professor with Muggle-sympathizing views who opposed the Dark Lord's pure-blood ideology.
No one dared speak, though the professor's students and colleagues sat at the table.
"In this operation, Harry Potter must perish."
Following the Killing Curse and the body's thunderous collapse, Lys felt increasingly impatient.
She buried that trace of compassion deep within her heart, thinking irritably about managing Nagini and environmental cleanup again.
The Dark Lord's peripheral vision caught Lys's subtle impatience. After surveying those Death Eaters who'd hidden behind chairs or tumbled from them entirely, the Dark Lord met Lys's gaze directly.
He lifted his mouth corners in satisfaction, unaware that Lys also exhaled in relief.
Her constantly operating Occlumency was designed to guard against precisely such moments, wasn't it?
A simpleton who only understood cleaning and serpent care—ruthless yet possessing a valuable brother.
Lys didn't participate in this operation because Lucius impatiently repeated:
"She cannot ride a broomstick!!! Cannot ride a broomstick!"
But privately, Lucius still urged Lys:
"That's Harry Potter—what the Dark Lord desires most! You need only demonstrate some capability. If unwilling, you could capture him and deliver him to me! All Malfoy transgressions could earn the Dark Lord's forgiveness. I could better protect you... even your brother might gain the Dark Lord's favor..."
Before Lys could refuse, her wand preemptively rejected Lucius with a vicious hex.
This left Lucius regretting his thoughtless words, standing motionless while gripping a new, utterly plain wand without a single gemstone, taking shallow breaths and not daring to move.
Ultimately, Lys joined the logistics division, standing alongside that diminutive man Peter.
However, this operation's results proved bizarre.
The Savior didn't die.
He actually survived...
Lys couldn't comprehend—she could eliminate Harry Potter ten times over.
Under identical conditions and timeframes, the Dark Lord could probably kill her once.
But why couldn't the Dark Lord destroy that Potter?
Death Eaters outnumbered the Order of the Phoenix nearly three to one!
Absolutely reliable intelligence from Snape!
Yet neither the fearless Imperius-controlled combatants nor glory-seeking Death Eaters could capture that savior.
Could the external prophecy be accurate? Regarding Potter being the Dark Lord's lifelong nemesis...
This operation's failure nearly killed the Dark Lord with rage, meaning they Death Eaters nearly perished too.
Though they controlled the Ministry and conducted purges, distributing Harry Potter's wanted posters throughout every corner of the wizarding world, they still couldn't apprehend Potter. After escaping that siege, Potter had vanished completely.
Though they'd placed surveillance on all Potter's associates and used magic to discover traces, they still couldn't capture him...
A Death Eater named Dolohov was Cruciated to incontinence before the Dark Lord.
Disgusted, Lys ejected him afterward.
She never encountered him again.
Lucius reported his death.
The Dark Lord had begun employing death to punish Death Eaters...
The entire magical world buzzed with discussions of the Savior's renewed escape. They dared not speak loudly, fearing the Dark Lord's followers or Death Eaters would target them.
They invented various clandestine magazines, radio broadcasts, and communication methods.
Consequently, those Death Eaters exhausted themselves daily attempting to apprehend magazine publishers and radio operators.
But though voices supporting the Savior remained concealed, they never ceased.
They optimistically believed Potter's escape from the Dark Lord's pursuit constituted victory itself!
They tirelessly celebrated every Harry Potter triumph from childhood onward—even winning the Quidditch Cup for his house...
Though Potter hadn't spoken once since escaping the Dark Lord.
Though the Dark Lord's desire to kill Harry Potter was expressed so thoroughly...
They remained firmly convinced that Harry Potter's survival represented victory.
Because no one had ever successfully escaped the Dark Lord before!
Therefore Harry Potter living meant the Dark Lord's defeat!
This deteriorated the Dark Lord's temper further.
His constant punishment of Death Eaters, Nagini's perpetually distended belly, stenches emanating from unknown souls... intensified Lys's pressure. She even began rejecting the rationality that returned after taking medication.
To release this pressure, Lys again chose self-indulgence, retrieving the wanted posters.
This allowed Fred, returning to the reading room after holidays, to discover Lys's assassination of wanted criminals, though he said nothing.
He spent the first half of summer vacation clutching Snap, remaining in Draco's room or the reading room constantly.
Until his report card arrived.
It displayed merely three E's, with the remainder barely passing or failing outright.
Lys swallowed the spoonful of potion Fred had administered, discarded the report card, and shook her head indifferently.
She'd long known this boy's true capabilities exceeded these results—the problem largely stemmed from his linguistic and spellcasting habits.
Otherwise, how could his Potions not achieve Outstanding!
She truly wondered how he completed his examinations—supplementing unknown English with German...?
She assured Fred it didn't matter. "I've personally tested your spells. For your age group, you're already quite accomplished."
Watching Lys speak while seemingly entranced, donning that old windbreaker again, Fred couldn't restrain himself from stopping her: "Sis, don't go. I mean, um... could we rest for a period? We could, um..." Fred grasped Lys's sleeve, hesitating, "Could... um..."
But before he finished, Lys froze. Her eyes seemed even more bewildered than Fred's, as though she hadn't expected to don those garments in his presence.
Staring intently, Fred confirmed again that his Sis definitely hadn't been taking her medication properly during his absence.
She hadn't even noticed her attitude toward claiming lives... he couldn't describe it precisely, but his sister seemed fundamentally altered.
Fred realized everyone surrounding him appeared nearly driven to madness by the Dark Lord.
Draco was compelled to kill and torture. If he failed to satisfy the Dark Lord, the Dark Lord would torture him. He would weep while embracing Fred.
His Sis wasn't required to perform specific tasks, yet always maintained an attitude of never escaping this place, now even requiring criminal hunting to vent and balance this oppressive existence.
They appeared fine, yet simultaneously seemed to need only gentle pressure to collapse into scattered fragments, never to rise again.
Were hearts seized by terror truly so fragile?
Observing Fred's eyes beginning to moisten, Lys restrained herself and removed the windbreaker, attempting to comfort him:
"Then—then let's visit Severus. Don't you like him? I know his residence."
Fred sighed with relief and sniffled. Even enduring Professor Snape's disdain was preferable to helplessly watching Sis depart to kill people.
Contrary to Fred's expectations, Snape, residing in his small dilapidated house, offered none of his customary cutting remarks upon seeing the siblings.
Those words seemed swallowed back by Snape standing in the doorway, as though too weary to voice them before they escaped.
Fred steadied the professor's inexplicably askew door: "Professor Snape, I had my sister bring me to visit without prior notification. I hope we haven't disturbed you..."
In the shabby house on Spinner's End, three people experimented with magic, read books, and brewed potions, as though the terrible deaths at term's conclusion had never occurred through their hands or before their eyes.
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